How long is forever?
by candelight
Summary: Curious Turtle Tot Fiction! Don has a dreadful nightmare in the middle of the night. Can Splinter answer a question that's been plaguing Donny for some time now?


How Long is Forever?

Curious Turtle Tot Fiction! Don has a dreadful nightmare in the middle of the night. Can Splinter answer a question that's been plaguing Don for some time now?

Don blinked.

And blinked again.

Where was he, exactly?

The last thing he remembered was.....well....

Actually, the story of his life was (i.e-two seconds ago) and was now staring rather blankly in his hands.

The turtle was sitting alone in one of the sewer tunnels, shell against the old brick. Don shivered slightly. Kinda cold in here.

Well, at least he recognized this particular tunnel. Best to just go home.

Stumbling slightly, he made his way to his feet, and, wading through a small canal, made his way for home.

----

The turtle froze.

...what?

This couldn't be right....Splinter had drilled them in this a hundred times! They now knew the tunnels basically well-the sewers were so enormous it could be difficult to know the

whole kit and kaboodle-but they were always told, if they were lost, to find their way home using the sewage junction lines, which always pointed in the right direction.

So how was he facing a total dead end? Where was the entrance? It was always hidden....but easy enough if you were a resident beneath its walls!

What was going on?

Don uncertainly turned, squinting in the dim light.

Had he....gotten it wrong?

Nope. Zip. Nada. Goose eggs.

It was the same awning!

So where WAS everybody? What had happened?

Don trembled. He was beginning to feel seriously anxious as he slowly backed out, and began to jog, then run, and then canter down the allies.

"LEO!"

But only his own echo.

"RAPHIE!"

A rat scurried away from him.

"MIKEY!"

Nothing.

As Don continued to frantically glance into tunnels, hoping beyond hope that someone, ANYONE-would answer-

"MASTER SPLINTER!"

Don skidded to a halt, heart hammering.

Why?

Where WAS everyone?

Was this some kind of joke? If it was, Don certainly did not find it funny.

"C'MON, guys, enough's enough!"

But, as his voice echoed on _enough, enough, enough...._there was still just an echo.

Don sighed in exasperation.

So....they were all playing hardball, huh? He'd find them. He'd always been good at hide-and-seek....

As Don made his way around the corner, he paused.

Something was floating in the water. Something that looked rather familiar....

He picked it up, eyes widening.

_Sewer Sweet Sewer_

What on....they never left this off the wall! They had made it out of an old licencse plate on Splinter's birthday! What was doing down....

Don let his eyes travel upwards.

And then he shrieked, heart smacking itself against his ribs.

Ashes.

The entire hall was filled with still smoldering, smelly, black ashes.

And there was a hand that lay quite still, and very much blackened under a pile of....

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

----

Splinter woke as suddenly as if he had been struck in the face, own heart hammering. He jumped from his futon, grasping for his robe in the darkness.

What on-?!

That scream had come from the room closest to his own...

_Donatello!_

_----_

The rat raced inside Don's book labryinth that was a room, wildly expecting some sort of attacker at the very least-but he was wrong. Donatello was sobbing into his pillow,

sounding hysterical.

Splinter paused.

Normally, it was Michelangelo who threw hysterics after dreams....Donatello was normally much more composed then this.

What had been so terrible to shake even Don?

Still....that did not matter. Splinter crossed the room, and awkwardly lay a hand on Donatello's shell, before sinking onto the small bed that was placed over the six year old's desk.

The turtle started.

"My son, are you..."

Splinter paused.

What a stupid question to ask-people who were screaming in the dead of night-or very, very early in the morning, as you might put it-were generally not under the terms of "fine."

The rat sighed, before Don whipped around with streaming orbs. His eyes widened.

"Sensei! Are you okay?!"

Splinter's mouth dropped as Don threw his arms around the rat's waist, and buried his face into the rough fabric.

"You're okay? You're okay! Okay, okay, okay, okay!"

The rat blinked, before drawing Donatello to him.

Perhaps he should stop letting them snack before bedtime....

----

As Donatello finished his story, hiccuping and still whimpering, the rat sighed.

"Oh...my son, do not fret. Everything is owarri."

But Don still seemed unconvinced. Splinter sighed.

How did he convince this turtle?

"Donatello....please. Remember the ninjitsu art of regulating breaths and chi."

If he had been asking Raph and Mikey this, they would have probably stared at the rat blankly, but Don swallowed, still trembling.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see it-smell it-practically taste the ashes and embers in the air.

And still see the limp body, like a broken marionette-

As Splinter got up to fetch the hissing kettle he left on the stove earlier-chocolate for Don, tea for Splinter, Don rubbed at red eyes with his fists.

"Sensei...?"

"Hmm?"

The rat was busy pulling two mugs out of the cupboard.

"Yes, my son?"

"How....Long is Forever?"

Splinter paused, letting the last of the steaming water run into his mug.

"Why...do you ask me that?"

Don fidgeted, a little abashed.

"D'you remember Leo's birthday? His last one?"

Splinter frowned.

Yes...he did remember-all of the turtles had selected a certain day to be their their birthday. It got too difficult celebrating for all them on one day.

As Mikey put it, it was an excuse to eat cake five times a year.

Don had selected Feburary fourth; Mikey, April First. (Sue him, it's one of his favorite holidays.) Raph, July Ninth. And Leo, November twenty-fourth. Splinter usually selected

December third.

The Scientist let out a sigh.

"I...uh.....um. Mikey said it was sad that Every day couldn't be a birthday....and you said it was-for somebody."

"And that it is, my son."

"And you said that we were linked as a family? Well, Raph, wanted to know for how long, and you said-"

"Forever, my son."

Don nodded.

"So how long IS forever? I know a DAY can feel like forever, or a month or year, so...?"

Splinter sighed, and handed Donatello a steaming mug.

"My son....forever is eternity. It is unfeeling to those who attempt to shackle it with words or time limits.

Forever goes beyond World's End, and to time and time again."

Don was listening intently, leaving a chocolately mustache at his lips as he lowered his cup. Splinter laughed softly, and wiped it away.

"Beyond of what may or may not happen, links are not so easily broken-if we do not leave them to rust, and eventually break. If we so wish, they can withstand this mortal life-

and what lies beyond the looking glass."

Don just nodded, laying his head on Splinter's arm as he sat down beside him. The rat smiled.

"Are you....still anxious, my son?"

Don paused, then nodded. The rat chuckled.

"Very well, my son. Come along."

----

As Don lay, snuggled up to the rat's shoulder, Master Splinter stared up at the ceiling, absentmindedly rubbing circles on Don's shoulder.

How long was forever?

An interesting question indeed. Not one unexpected from one like Donatello.

The rat yawned.

Still, as profound as it was, it would have to wait until morning.


End file.
